


I'm still waiting on the right words

by dontbitethesun



Series: Right Words [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Break Up, Getting Back Together, M/M, cracky humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2011-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbitethesun/pseuds/dontbitethesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's attempt at a normal family is not going well; Ben never warms up to him and Lisa would rather make him talk about his feelings than sleep with him. Then Cas – the ex-boyfriend who Dean can’t seem to get over – shows up after he punches God in the face and becomes BFFs with Lisa when he hides out in her kitchen. Chuck is both a bad dad and kind of a plagiarist and Raphael just wants a vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm still waiting on the right words

When the world is about to end with a bang, Dean and Cas end with barely a whimper. After their ill-fated visit to Heaven, Dean says, "I think we should take a break."

Cas answers, "If that's what you want."

The next time Dean sees him, Cas is temperamental and hung over after drinking an entire liquor store.

*

It doesn’t take long for Dean to start to regret his decision after he’s cooled off a bit. He starts dropping suggestive one liners about sex around Cas. He thinks maybe they can have one more round of hot break up sex before he says yes to Michael, but of course Cas doesn't agree. He's pissed off at Dean, at God. He doesn't pull a single one of his punches when he has to go after Dean and drag him back to Bobby’s. Needless to say, they don’t exactly patch things up.

*

After the failed apocalypse, Dean goes to Lisa's mostly because he doesn't have anywhere else to go. Cas is still pissed at him, Bobby's place and the open road are too full of memories, and Sam… Sam is just gone. He wants a fresh start.

"What happened?" Lisa asks, opening her door wide to let him in. Ben, Dean finds out, is already asleep.

"My brother died."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Hell no."

Lisa tucks him in on the couch. She presses a kiss to Dean's cheek. "The spare room is full of files," she explains. "You'll have to make due here until I can clean it out this weekend."

"This is fine," Dean answers. He’d rather be joining Lisa in her bed, but he figures they’re taking things slow this time around.

He sleeps fitfully. He wakes up the next morning when he hears Ben thump down the stairs. He sits up, bleary eyed, and says, "Hey kid."

"Agh!" Ben starts and flings the sleek, black plastic rectangle he’d held in his hand. It hits the ground with the resounding crack of breaking plastic.

"You made me break my DS!" Ben says in anguish. He flips it open and presses morosely at the buttons. Nothing happens.

"Sorry," Dean says, still exhausted yet genuinely contrite. "I'll buy you a new one?"

“You’d better,” Ben says, glaring at him.

*

"What's a DS?" Dean asks Lisa later, after he's downed two cups of coffee and feels a little more like himself and less like the waking dead.

"It's kind of like a gameboy," Lisa answers, searching around on her counter looking for her keys.

"And a new one's what, like ten or twenty bucks?"

"Try 130."

"Dollars? Seriously?" Dean thinks he's going to have a heart attack. His chest feels tight. “I’m supposed to buy him a new one,” he says in a pained voice.

"Relax. I'm sure you can find one for less on Ebay."

“Oh thank god.”

“For, like, maybe fifty bucks instead.”

“You paid that much for a stupidly delicate _child’s toy_?” Dean asks incredulously. He barely spends that much on his car and she’s the absolute love of his life.

Lisa shrugs. “Kids these days are high-tech. It kept him from asking for a robot that was way more expensive.”

*

“Will you be alright by yourself while I’m at work?” Lisa asks right before she heads out the door to go to work. Ben’s already left for school.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean answers. He’s a grown man. He’s sure he can handle himself alone for one day.

Except maybe he can’t. After he’s tried to drown his sorrows in the six pack he finds in Lisa’s fridge and made a sizable dent in the whiskey he finds in her liquor cabinet, he realizes what a brilliant idea it would be to demon proof Lisa’s house for her.

When he heads to the garage to retrieve his guns and a bag of salt from the trunk of the Impala, he finds a can of red paint. “Perfect!” he crows and grabs that too.

By the time Lisa gets home a few hours later, Dean’s poured salt along every window sill, hidden all of his guns but the last one, and pushed Lisa’s bed across the room to paint a big red devil’s trap under it.

“Dean, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lisa demands from the doorway just as Dean’s picking up the bucket of paint.

“Lisa!” Dean jumps, surprised, and dumps the paint all over her bed. He hadn’t put the lid on very well, and red paint splashes everywhere. He spins to face her and accidentally fires the shotgun. Lisa winces, but the salt round harmlessly pelts the wall rather than her body. She glares at the tiny pockmarks it leaves behind on the wall.

“Oops?” Dean says.

Lisa gingerly removes the shotgun from Dean’s hands. He lets her take it. “Why don’t you go take a shower, sober up a bit and then come downstairs to have a little talk with me,” she says in a stern voice.

*

Once Dean’s head is cleared enough to go face Lisa, he counts himself lucky that she doesn’t kick him out of her house outright.

“I am so, so, so sorry, Lise,” Dean grovels after he’s explained himself as well as he can. He has a pounding headache, but that’s the least of his worries.

“Dean,” Lisa sighs. “You want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Not particularly,” Dean says, wincing when Lisa narrows her eyes at him for that answer. “The last couple years, it’s just been constant fighting. I guess I overreacted, but I really only wanted to keep you safe.”

“Firing a gun in my direction is perhaps not the best way to do that, salt rounds or not,” Lisa comments dryly.

Dean blanches. “Point,” he answers.

“So you have PTSD?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dean frowns.

“Clearly, Dean, you have issues. Just look at my house.”

“That’s probably true.” When his dad died, Dean had taken a crowbar to what was left of his car. This time, despite his promise to Sam, Dean had almost destroyed his chance at a normal life along with Lisa’s bedroom.

“You shouldn’t just bottle this kind of stuff up,” Lisa says, concerned. “You really should to talk to someone.”

“They aren’t exactly support groups for dealing with the supernatural,” Dean answers. “Most people think this kind of thing is crazy.” This he knows from experience. Sometimes the most difficult part of his job is convincing people to believe what’s right in front of their eyes.

Lisa reaches out and places her hand over Dean’s. “You have me,” she says. “You can talk to me about it.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Dean says.

“Sure it is,” Lisa answers with a smile. “I am a fully qualified psychologist.”

“You're a shrink?” Dean asks, surprised. “I thought you were a yoga instructor.”

“Obviously you didn’t listen when I told you I was only working as a yoga instructor to put myself through grad school,” Lisa answers drolly.

“Apparently not,” Dean replies. He’d been too busy fantasizing about how bendy she’d be.

“Right,” Lisa says, narrowing her eyes at him as if she knows exactly what he’s thinking. Considering her actual job, as well as her old one, she probably does. “You clearly need help. You nearly fainted when I told you you’d have to pay me back for the new carpet, so you’ll have to do this instead.”

“Crap,” Dean says. Lisa’s going to make him talk about his feelings. He absolutely hates even hinting at those kinds of things.

Lisa sighs at his panicked look and takes pity on him, at least for now. “We don’t have to do it right this minute. Let’s just start with your new rules.”

“Rules?”

“Number 1, no guns in the house. I’m confiscating these and putting them under lock and key.”

Dean pouts but doesn’t argue. Apparently, in his drunken state, what he’d thought had been good ‘hiding places’ for his arsenal was more like leaving the guns in plain sight and she’d found every single one.

“Rule Number 2, if you paint anything else on my floors, my walls, or my ceilings, I’m kicking you out.”

“I am not a little kid,” Dean grumbles under his breath in a tone that closely resembles whining, but Dean convinces himself is slightly more manly. He wisely resolves not to tell her about the first devil’s trap he’d hidden under the rug by the front door and hopes she never, ever finds it.

“And finally, you get to clean all of this up. I’ll just go get you the broom.”

“Crap,” Dean repeats.

*

“So you’re like a Doctor, huh?” Dean asks later after he’s swept up all the salt he’d poured all over the living room floor and done his best on Lisa’s carpet.

“Pretty much,” Lisa answers.

“That’s pretty cool,” Dean says.

“I guess,” Lisa says with a sigh, staring down at her ruined carpet and bedspread. “I’m going to have sleep in the spare room until this gets fixed.”

That night, back on the couch, Dean dreams that he’s Dr. Sexy - he’s got the cowboy boots and everything. He’s arguing with Dr. Braeden who’s wearing a lab coat and a pair of five inch heels, both things he’s never seen her wear in real life.

“Just because you heroically did that heart transplant on my son doesn’t mean that I can just forget that you slept with my evil twin,” Lisa says.

Dean grasps her dramatically by the shoulders and says, “Dr. Braeden, I don’t want to argue with you anymore, especially not after you just had surgery for that brain tumor only a few days ago.” Lisa still looks like she’s going to say more, so Dean silences her with a kiss. It’s getting pretty good just as Dr. Angel strides in and tears Dean away.

“Dr. Winchester,” Cas says in that deep, sexy voice of his, “I require your assistance for a consult on a case where the patient is his own grandfather.”

Dean opens his eyes and punches his pillow. “Damnit,” he says. He needs to stop watching so many soap operas.

*

Lisa locks him out of the house when she leaves for work the next day. Dean supposes he deserves it. "I'll be back by four," she says.

"What am I supposed to do all day?" Dean asks.

"I don’t know. You’re a big boy, you’ll think of something. Maybe you can go to the library or Starbucks or something else. Or you could hunt up some leads for a job and find a way to get rid of all that pent up energy that isn’t so destructive to my house."

Dean would argue that he’s not actually a little kid, but that argument is getting redundant. He supposes that Lisa’s suggestions beat getting drunk and being yelled at again. Instead, he ends up browsing garage sales. He finds an old gameboy for five dollars and buys it for Ben. It's kind of dusty, but it still works.

Ben is not pleased when Dean gives it to him later that afternoon. "There are lines running across the screen," he complains after the five minutes it takes for the thing to turn on.

"I thought it was supposed to do that," Dean answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

Ben glares at him. “It’s really not,” he argues.

Dean sighs and offers, “I’m going to change the oil on the Impala. You want to help?”

Ben shrugs his agreement and follows Dean outside. After Dean’s done with the oil change and starts pointing out all the Impala’s parts, Ben starts getting bored. “She’s okay, I guess,” he says. “I like motorcycles better.”

“Who do you know that has a motorcycle?”

“Justin.”

“Who’s that?” Hopefully not another twelve-year-old.

“My mom’s ex. They dated for almost five years. He taught me everything I know about stuff that’s cool.”

Dean nods. Considering that Lisa had told him she had a definite type, he shouldn’t be so surprised. Kids don’t just come out of the ether with a love of classic cars and AC/DC. Coolness is not something encoded in your DNA. Sam is proof that.

“Where is Justin now?” Dean asks. He hasn’t heard a word about him from Lisa.

“On a motorcycle trip across Europe,” Ben says wistfully. “He sends me postcards sometimes.”

“You seem to miss him a lot.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, looking pointedly at Dean. “None of Mom’s other boyfriends can compare.”

“Ouch,” Dean says, and does not point out that he’s still sleeping on the couch or that he and Lisa haven’t even kissed for more than ten years.

“Crap,” Ben says, “now I’m sad.”

“Hey,” Dean says, glancing around nervously in case Lisa is somehow hiding in the bushes, waiting to point out what a bad influence Dean is, “you shouldn’t swear. Your mom wouldn’t like it.”

“Justin taught me how,” Ben says defiantly. “I bet he knows-"

“A hundred thousand more swear words than me, right?” Dean says, giving Ben a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Ben allows it for a few seconds before ducking away. “And I bet he’ll teach you them all when he comes back from his trip, which makes him way cooler than me. But for now, I’m all you’ve got. Why don’t I buy you an ice cream sunday to cheer you up?”

“That does sound kinda good,” Ben grudgingly admits.

*

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean demands the following week when he finds Lisa nose deep in a paperback with _Supernatural_ emblazoned on the side.

“Don’t swear,” Lisa answers unperturbed, flipping a page without looking up. “Ben’s in the kitchen.”

“Why are you reading those books?” Dean rephrases, irritated.

“You wouldn’t talk to me, so I figured these might give me some insight into what your life’s been like lately.”

“No, no way,” Dean says, snatching the book out of her hands and ignoring her protests. “I didn’t ask for these to get written, okay. You don’t get to read them.”

“Does that mean you’ll talk to me instead?”

“If you let me have one of my guns back maybe I will. I’ll even keep the safety on!” Lisa just stares him down until Dean concedes. “Alright, alright. What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with how many times you’ve actually died.”

Dean glances down at the book in his hands and of course it’s _Mystery Spot._ Of freaking course. He counts himself lucky at least it wasn’t one of the books involving Cas.

“Like a hundred or something. But you know I don’t actually remember a single one of those times from this book.” Lisa had been just a few pages away from the end, so she should know that.

“I bet you remember selling your soul to save Sam? Or going to hell? Let’s talk about that.”

Dean takes it back. Talking about Cas might actually be easier.

*

Lisa likes to sit down on the couch next to Dean to watch the morning news and drink her coffee. Dean thinks that she mostly enjoys waking him up and making fun of his bed head.

“Nice hair,” she comments, smirking into her coffee mug.

“You know, when I came here, I kind of thought I would be sleeping in a bed,” Dean grumbles, trying to flatten his hair.

“You could have had the spare room,” Lisa comments. “At least until you destroyed my bedroom and I had to sleep there instead.”

“I meant _with_ you.”

Lisa laughs. “Please, Dean. That’s inappropriate. I’m your therapist.”

Dean frowns. She may think it’s unethical, but she doesn’t have to make it sound like the mere thought of sleeping with him again is so ridiculous.

“Hey,” Dean says, “I’m hot.”

Lisa just pats him on the knee and says, “Of course you are.”

“You could have at least brought me some coffee,” Dean says, half-heartedly reaching out to try and steal hers. Lisa laughs and scoots away.

"Ouch," she says, and roots around under Dean's pillow until she finds an action figure. "Did you know you were sleeping on Ben's Constantine figurine?"

Dean snatches it away from her and cradles it in his hands, stroking his thumb over the trench-coated figure. "Ben must have left it there last night."

"Right," Lisa answers knowingly, staring down at his hands. "You know we're going to talk about this later, right?"

"It just reminds me of someone I used to know, okay. No big deal."

"That's why you've been clutching it in your sleep?"

"I have not!” Dean denies.

To prove it, he gives the action figure back to Ben as he passes by on the way to school.

“I found this in the couch,” Dean lies.

“Right,” Ben says, taking it out of Dean’s hand and stuffing it in his backpack. He sounds annoyed. He still hasn’t warmed up to Dean, and Dean doesn’t think this latest encounter has won him any points. “Sure you did.”

*

Cas shows up at in Lisa’s kitchen after he goes on another drinking spree.

“Um, hi,” Lisa says. She would be much more freaked out about strange men wearing trench coats appearing from out of nowhere in her kitchen if it wasn’t for the recent incident with Dean and his Constantine action figure.

“Is Dean here?” Cas asks, wobbling a little on his feet.

“No, he’s at work.”

“I will wait here then.” He pauses and stares at Lisa. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“You’re a friend of Dean’s, right?”

“You could say that. My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord.”

“For an angel of the lord, you don’t look so good,” Lisa says. In fact, he’s looking a little green. Lisa doesn’t think angels are supposed to look that way.

“I may have consumed an entire liquor store,” Cas answers sheepishly. “I have been having a bad day.”

“That sounds like some bad day. Why don’t I make you some tea and you can tell me all about it,” Lisa suggests, filling her kettle up with water from the tap.

Cas looks unsure, but settles down awkwardly into one of the chairs at her kitchen table anyway. “I will try this tea of yours,” he says.

"So," Lisa asks, placing the tea kettle on the stove, "you wear that trench coat often?"

*

By the time Dean comes home, Cas and Lisa are well on their way to becoming BFFs. Dean’s less than happy to see his ex-boyfriend in Lisa’s kitchen, especially when he’s shyly smiling at her over the top of his teacup.

"Cas, what are you doing here?" Dean demands.

"I found God," Cas answers sullenly.

"Little late, but that's a good thing, right?"

"Not exactly. I may have punched God in the face." There's a light blush tingeing Cas' cheeks.

"You, what? What happened?" Dean can not stop laughing.

"The world as we know it ended," Cas states, deadpan.

"No, seriously, Cas."

"It hurt my hand," Cas answers. Dean can see a deep purple bruise on his knuckles where Cas' hand is wrapped around the handle of his teacup. Dean irrationally wants to kiss it better.

“I thought you were all mojo’d up again,” Dean says. Lisa thinks she hears a hint of worry in his voice. She doesn’t know the whole story yet, but she can tell there’s more going on between the two than Dean’s let on.

“I am,” Cas answers. “That did not make it any less ill advised.”

“Was he mad?”

“No,” Cas answers, bring a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He just laughed and asked me to bring him an extra-large Carmel Macchiato with extra whipped cream from Starbucks and then to keep Raphael out of his hair for the rest of the day.”

Dean’s never been fond of Raphael, but that doesn’t stop him from saying, “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“He’s been hiding away in the Garden of Eden, refusing to speak to any of the other angels. He hasn’t said much to me either, just orders me to bring him various things from Earth and to keep Raphael away from him. He keeps threatening to go on another extended vacation to Earth if the angels don’t leave him alone.”

Dean’s not surprised to find that God is kind of a douche, but he does feel bad that he let Cas down considering the faith Cas had placed in him for so long.

“Why did he come back in the first place then?” Dean asks.

Cas’ lips quirk up in a small, wry smile. “Raphael didn’t give him much choice. He found him relaxing in Hawaii after the apocalypse never happened and decided it was time to drag him back up to Heaven where he belongs.”

Unsure what kind of advice to give, Dean says, “If he’s being such a jerk, then the next time he asks, you should totally spit in his coffee.”

Cas’ smile grows. “I will have to seriously consider your advice.”

*

After Cas leaves, Lisa wants to talk about Dean's suppressed homoerotic tendencies.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw you with Cas,” she says, amused. “You want to hit that.”

“I don’t like guys,” Dean lies. He fidgets, suddenly uncomfortable. Lisa does not look convinced.

“Oh please,” she says. “I saw you checking out that hot biker dude before I came over to buy you a drink. I thought he was going to break you in half if you actually hit on him.”

"You only bought me a drink out of pity?" Dean asks. His whole worldview is shaken.

"Well, that, and you were pretty hot."

This makes Dean feel a little better. Enough to compromise and say, “I’ll tell you about me and Cas after you tell me about you and Justin.”

“Ben mentioned him?” Lisa asks, She does not sound at all surprised that Dean found out about her ex.

“Obviously.”

Lisa sighs. “Justin and I had kind of an on again, off again relationship for a while. We weren’t meant to last long, but Ben adored him.”

“Ben says you were together five years before he left. Were you two dating when you offered to let me stay two years ago?”

Lisa gives him a rueful smile. “Don’t worry. That was during the off part of our relationship.”

“Oh,” Dean says. “Good?”

Lisa rolls her eyes and says, “Your turn. Tell me how you feel about Cas.”

Dean makes a face. He would like to deny that he has any kind of _feelings_ for Cas, but he knows Lisa will see that as the broad faced lie that it is, just like she saw through his denial that he doesn’t actually like guys too. “Cas and I… were a supremely bad idea.”

“Did you break his heart?” Lisa asks.

“Why do you assume it was my fault?” Dean asks.

Lisa shrugs. “I have a feeling you’re a heartbreaker,” she says.

“It was a mutual decision.”

“But it was your idea, right?”

“Okay, yes, but he didn’t exactly fight me about it,” Dean is forced to say in his own defense.

“Maybe not then, but he came here looking for you today.”

Dean frowns but says nothing.

Lisa says, “Just think about it, okay?”

*

Cas comes back again a few days later with an old, tattered book.

“What’s that for?” Dean asks.

“I’m trying to banish God to an alternate dimension,” Cas answers, flipping through the stiff, deckel-edged pages.

“Seriously, why are you so pissed at God,” Dean asks, slightly nervous about getting involved in this.

“I asked him to bring Sam back and he said it would mess up his storyline,” Cas says without looking up.

“Wait, you asked _what_?”

Cas glances up at Dean’s shocked tone. “I thought you would be pleased,” he says noncommittally.

“No Cas, I am. I really, really am.” This is the best news Dean’s had for years. He wants to wrap Cas up in a huge hug, but he’s not sure how Cas would respond to that, so he settles for clapping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing tight. “I can’t believe you would do that for me, Cas.”

“God said no,” Cas reminds him. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d say Cas is leaning into his hand, just a little bit.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean says with utter confidence. “I’m sure you can come up with a way to save Sam without God’s help.”

Cas gives him a tiny smile and says, “I found a promising alternate dimension where humans and dinosaurs have co-existed for centuries and are so intertwined that writing is entirely based on various formations of dinosaur footprints. Writing in that world seems to be very difficult for humans.”

Dean grins. “Hey, if you sent him there, maybe a T-Rex would eat him.”

*

The following week, Cas shows up with a pile of books that he dumps on Lisa’s kitchen table right where Dean is eating breakfast.

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean demands when milk from his cereal splashes over his t-shirt.

“I quit.”

“You what?”

“Raphael is a douche bag and God keeps treating me like his personal assistant. I decided I’d rather be here on Earth, helping you search for a way to bring Sam back. So, I quit.”

Dean is still a little shell-shocked.

“Aren’t you going to come with me?” Cas asks, confused why Dean is still just sitting there and not rushing off to pack his duffle bag.

“I… what?” Dean’s mouth hangs open. He hates that Cas can make him speechless. “You want me to go with you?”

Cas frowns. “Don’t sound so surprised. Sam is your brother and I care about him as well.”

“But we broke up!” Dean blurts.

“Lisa informs me you wish we hadn’t. Is she wrong?”

“Freaking Lisa,” Dean swears under his breath, but when he finds himself starting up into Cas’ big, blue eyes after he said he wants to help Dean save his little brother, Dean finds he can’t lie. “No, she’s not,” Dean sighs. “It seems I can’t get over you.”

Cas gives him a small, pained smile. “It seems you are not alone. I myself find my heart aching for you.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes. He wants to tell Cas you can’t just say that shit, especially because coming from anyone else it would sound lame. But Cas is so sincere, and Dean’s been so miserable without him, it sounds like music to his ears.

He stands up, wiping idly at the wet spot on his shirt where milk had splashed from Cas’ books. He feels underdressed, barefoot in his t-shirt and boxers compared to Cas’ full suit and trench coat.

“So we’re doing this again?” Dean asks, stepping in close to Cas. Cas stares at his lips.

“If that’s what you want,” Cas answers, the same answer he gave when their relationship ended just a few months ago.

“No, Cas,” Dean says, sliding his hand into Cas’ hair. Cas nuzzles his cheek against Dean’s palm. “I want to know what _you_ want.”

“I want you,” Cas answers and leans down to kiss him.

*

“We should at least wait until Lisa gets back from work,” Dean says while he gathers his things. Cas follows after him from room to room.

“It’s not like you’ll never see her again,” Cas says.

“No, I know that. I just want to say goodbye, and thank you. I know she’d worry if we just disappeared,” Dean says, handing a stack of freshly laundered shirts to Cas to carry back into the living room for him before picking up the rest of his laundry. “Also, she has all my guns.”

“Ah,” Cas says, amused. He knows how Dean feels about his firearms.

“Oh shut up,” Dean grumbles, but he matches Cas’ burgeoning smile with one of his own.

*

Lisa and Ben aren’t exactly sad to see Dean go. Truth be told, Dean’s not exactly bummed to be leaving them either, especially when it’s Cas he’s leaving with.

“So I see you two made up,” Lisa says with a knowing smile.

“Yeah,” Dean answers, ignoring her innuendo. “We’re going to see if there’s a way to bring Sam back.”

“Is that all?” she asks. Dean rolls his eyes.

Lisa give him a big hug and tells him to call once in a while and not just disappear off the face of the Earth again. Ben shakes Dean’s hand and says, “You better not have stolen any of my stuff.”

Dean thinks Ben is actually kind of ecstatic that he’s leaving.

“He likes you, really,” Lisa says after Ben heads off to his room. “He just thinks of you as an older brother and he’s been jealous of all the time you and I have been spending together lately.”

“He’s jealous I’m stealing his mom away from him?” Dean repeats skeptically. He’s not so sure that’s the case. He thinks Ben’s mostly still mad at him about the broken DS. “Just tell him I swear I’ll buy him a new DS. Eventually.”

“That’s okay,” Lisa grins. “He’s been hinting he’d rather have a PSP for his birthday anyway.”

Dean wisely does not ask what that is, or how much it costs.

*

“So where exactly are we going?” Dean asks, standing by the driver’s side door of the Impala.

Cas shrugs. “We have a substantial amount of research to do. Whichever place you choose will work as well as any other.”

“In other words, anywhere but here,” Dean says, smiling. He can get behind that.

Dean points them west and they drive aimlessly for a couple hours until Dean decides they should stop for lunch. Dean eats while Cas reads. “We might as well stop here,” Dean says when Cas keeps his nose buried in his books as they walk back to the car.

Dean checks them in to the nearest motel and they settle in. Dean picks up one of Cas’ books and makes it through half of it before he gets bored. Cas is just so much more interesting than his book, and it’s been so long since he got any.

“Dean,” Cas says, “you’re distracting me.”

Dean frowns. All he had really been doing was staring. He decides to be more forward. “No, Cas,” Dean says, “ _you’re_ distracting _me_ , sitting there looking all studious and intense.”

“I thought you wanted to get your brother back,” Cas says, shuffling the book in his hands as Dean inches closer to him.

“And you will,” Dean answers. “I know you will. But he’s not the only one I’ve been missing lately and you’re sitting right here in front of me.”

“Dean,” Cas says warningly when Dean puts a hand on his thigh.

“I have an idea,” Dean says, reaching over to undo Cas’ belt buckle before kneeling down between his legs. “You can keep reading that book while I have some fun. It’s been months since I had sex.”

“ _Dean_.” This time when Cas says his name it comes out more like a gasp. Dean smirks and hooks his fingers into Cas’ boxers to tug them down. Despite his protests, Cas wiggles helpfully and allows Dean to pull them down around his thighs. His dick bobs up, already at half-mast.

“This is not a good idea,” Cas gasps when Dean leans down to lick around the head of his cock.

“Keep reading,” Dean repeats, more firmly this time, before swallowing Cas all the way down.

“ _Oh… oh_ fuck,” Cas says and knocks the book on the floor, his hips stuttering up in tiny thrusts. He slides forward until he’s sitting on the very edge of the chair, giving Dean better access. He tangles his fingers in Dean’s hair and yanks hard when Dean trails his fingers up under Cas’ cock to cup his balls.

“Suck me harder,” Cas demands, tilting Dean’s head to just the right angle. Dean loves it when Cas is bossy like this. He smirks around Cas’ cock and lets him set the pace.

*

Dean wakes up the next morning with his head pillowed on Cas’ leg. Cas’ hand is resting on the back of his neck, his thumb absently rubbing rhythmic circles against Dean’s skin.

“Wah?” he says around a mouthful of polyester. Dean looks up to see Cas absorbed in his book. He’s half dressed, back in his pants and his button down, but his suit jacket and trench coat are thankfully absent. Dean, on the other hand, is completely naked. There is a sheet artfully arranged on his hip that’s managing to cover absolutely nothing.

“Mmm, morning,” Dean says, stretching his arms up.

“Morning,” someone who is definitely not Cas answers. Dean glances over to the foot of the bed to see Chuck standing there.

“Jesus Christ!” Dean yells, pulling the sheet up to cover himself all the way up to his naked chest. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Cas. I need him to come back to Heaven.”

“Are you like an emissary from God or something?” Dean asks, reaching for his boxers and pulling them on under the sheet, still holding it protectively up over his chest. “Because if you are, you can tell him to shove it.”

“Dean,” Cas says, standing up, “Chuck _is_ God.”

" _You're_ God?" Dean repeats. He drops the sheet in shock.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Chuck says.

“I’m not going back to Heaven,” Cas says, sorting through the books on the table. “I already gave you my resignation.”

“But I can’t work like this,” Chuck complains. “The other angels won’t leave me alone. I haven’t written more than a hundred words all week!”

“Hey, they’re your kids, man. You should pay more attention to them,” Dean says, looking around for his for his t-shirt.

“I hate dealing with them,” Chuck says. “Why do you think I left for so long anyway? They're like kindergarteners, but with nuclear weapons. Try to ignore them for five minutes to get some work done and they threaten to destroy the world.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Clearly you should have done something about them earlier instead of leaving Cas to deal with them.”

“I only brought Cas back so I wouldn’t have to deal with Raphael and the other angels,” Chuck says nonchalantly. “I wasn’t planning on coming back to Heaven yet.”

Dean gapes at him. “You are _such a bad dad_.”

“That just proves how much I need his help now!” Chuck argues.

Cas does not look convinced. “If you want me around to keep an eye on the angels so badly, then you’ve got to comprise with me.” Cas narrows his eyes and adds, “Otherwise, I will find a way to banish you to the dimension where writing was never invented and storytelling is seen as raving lunacy.”

Chuck does actually look a little afraid. Dean is impressed. “What did you have in mind?” Chuck asks.

“One, you can’t leave heaven for more than six weeks at a time, especially without telling us where you’re going.”

“Aw, man.” Chuck looks bummed, but he nods. “You drive a hard bargain, but I suppose I can agree to that.”

Cas stands firm. “I wasn't finished. Secondly, you will bring Sam Winchester back to life and fix his soul after his time in hell.”

“Adam too,” Dean interjects.

“But guys, that totally ruins my next story line. After hundreds of years in hell Sam and Adam come back in 2020 to fight evil and right wrongs in the name of God and justice. They’ll have nifty gadgets and wear capes and answer to a bat signal in the sky, all while driving around in a cool, souped up car.”

“Dude, that’s Batman.” Dean is not at all jealous that God wants to make Sam Batman. Really, he’s not. “You’re going to add Batman to the Bible?”

“No one said I had to be original,” Chuck sniffs. “I totally ripped the story of Noah’s arc off the Sumerians.”

“You’ll just have to think of something else if you want Cas to be your glorified secretary,” Dean says. Cas shoots an annoyed look in Dean’s direction but doesn’t say anything to the contrary.

“I suppose I could go back to writing about the adventures of Sam and Dean, the classic saving people, hunting things storylines,” Chuck muses. Dean makes a face, but doesn’t interrupt. “I could even throw Adam in too!” Chuck looks gleeful. “This could really work.”

“So you agree?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, sure,” Chuck says, completely wrapped up in the potential of his new plotline. “I’ll be back soon.”

“With both my brothers?” Dean demands.

“Of course,” Chuck says, rolling his eyes before he disappears.

“Cas,” Dean says, tackling Cas back against the sheets. “You did it!”

“Yes,” Cas answers simply.

“I’d really like to show you my appreciation,” Dean says. He’s still only wearing his boxers.

“I’d like that,” Cas says, smiling, as Dean starts undoing the buttons to his shirt.

*

“Jesusss fuckkk,” Dean groans. He’s got his legs splayed as wide as they’ll go and he can just see the top of Cas’ dark haired head through heavily lidded eyes.

Cas rolls his tongue inside of him.

“Do that again,” Dean breaths, rocking his hips up.

Cas stops and tightens his hold on Dean’s hips. He glares up at him, pupils blown wide. “What did I tell you about moving?”

“Not to,” Dean moans, tangling his fingers in the sheets. “I can’t help it.”

“Then I guess we’re done with the foreplay.”

“Yes, _please_ , just fuck me.” If Cas keeps at it any longer, Dean is going to come and he’d so much rather do that with Cas’ dick inside of him.

Cas slicks up two of his fingers and pushes them inside Dean. He’s still laying down between Dean’s legs, his mouth inches away from Dean’s dick. Dean can feel each exhale against his skin. He squirms and whines, “Cas, please.”

Cas huffs out a laugh which sends a shiver down Dean’s back. “Be patient,” Cas says, scissors his fingers inside Dean. Dean moans and Cas pulls out his fingers, placing a kiss on Dean’s knee before shifting up onto his knees.

“Do it,” Dean demands, hitching a leg up over Cas’ hip. Cas smiles and leans down to kiss him as he positions the head of his cock against Dean’s hole. “Thank you, finally,” Dean groans against Cas’ lips as he pushes slowly in. He gasps when Cas finally bottoms out. It’s everything Dean’s been missing for months.

“Did you think about doing this with me when you were at Lisa’s?” Cas demands while he waits for Dean to adjust to the feeling of Cas’ dick inside him.

“Yes,” Dean hisses, “all the fucking time. I even dreamt about you.”

“Did it turn you on?” Cas continues. “Did you jerk off thinking about me?”

“Not on the couch, god, Lisa would have killed me. But in the shower…”

“Good,” Cas says, giving Dean a feral, pleased smile. Dean had no idea he could be so possessive. He files that bit of information away for later. For now, he’s distracted as Cas starts to move. He squeezes his eyes shut, and gasps when Cas pulls out and snaps his hips back in.

“Touch me,” Dean begs, his neglected dick rubbing up against Cas’ stomach with each thrust. Cas obligingly wraps his hand around it, fingers still slick with lube. A couple more thrusts and Dean thinks he’s going to come and it is going to be absolutely prefect – which is exactly when Chuck shows up with Dean’s younger brothers.

“Fuuuckkk,” Dean groans, his face turning bright red. Cas takes his hand away from Dean’s cock to brace himself against the mattress as he turns to glare at the newcomers. This doesn’t actually stop him from continuing to thrust slowly into Dean.

“I need another round of brain bleach,” Sam says, covering his eyes.

“Are you sure we actually left Hell?” Adam asks in a tiny, broken voice.

“Seriously, you guys couldn’t even wait ten minutes to have sex?” Chuck demands, exasperated.

“This is so awkward,” Dean says, hiding his face in the crook of Cas’ neck. It doesn’t stop his hips from moving to meet every one of Cas’ shallow thrusts.

“Do you want me to stop?” Cas asks softly.

“Don’t you dare,” Dean says, digging his fingernails into Cas’ ass.

“We’ll just be at McDonald’s then,” Chuck says before he and Dean’s brothers disappear.

“Thank fuck,” Dean gasps. Cas chuckles and Dean smiles as he weaves his fingers through Cas’ hair, pulls him down to nip and kiss at his lips. He comes thirty seconds later.

*

“Do you think we have time for one more round?” Dean asks in the shower, running his hand down Cas’ soapy chest.

Cas decides they do. “We did get interrupted the first time,” he reasons, spinning Dean around and shoving him against the shower door.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Dean gasps.

*

He and Cas show up at McDonald’s an hour later, freshly showered and completely blissed out. Adam is picking at the last of his fries while Sam has commandeered a computer. Or, far more likely, he whined until Chuck magicked one up for him.

“Sammy!” Dean shouts, wrapping his brother in a bear hug.

“Please tell me you showered and used soap. Lots and lots of soap,” Sam says.

Dean huffs out a laugh and reaches over to ruffles Adam’s hair.

“Um, thanks from saving me from Hell?” Adam says, leaning away from Dean’s hand.

“No problem, baby brother,” Dean answers.

“Please don’t call him that,” Sam says, pained. Dean grins and goes off to stand in line for food.

“He’s in a very good mood because we –” Cas starts to explain.

“Okay!” Sam loudly interrupts. “We don’t want the details. We already saw everything.”

Cas frowns and continues anyway. “– saved his brothers from Hell and got back together,” he finishes, just as uninterested in sharing the details as Sam is to hear them.

“Oh, well. That’s good,” Sam says. He pauses. “When were you two together before?”

“You didn’t know?” Dean asks, coming back with a tray stacked high with at least twenty burgers and one lone large fry.

“No. Um, dude, we already ate,” Sam says, eyeing Dean’s tray.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean answers. He grabs the fries and three burgers before sliding the rest over to Cas. He grins and opens his mouth, but Chuck cuts him off.

“So, Cas, about coming back to work,” Chuck begins before Dean can say something crude.

“I want nights and weekends off,” Cas says, unwrapping his first burger and taking a huge bite.

Chuck frowns at him. “I don’t think that was part of the deal.”

“I refuse to be separated from Dean indefinitely.” Dean beams at him. “Also, I will need to leave any time Dean is about to die and I’m required to step in to save him,” Cas adds.

“But that’s practically all the time,” Chuck whines.

Dean’s smile disappears. “Hey,” he says, offended.

“You have two choices,” Cas argues, ignoring Dean completely. “You can either hide behind me during the hours of 9-5 or you can stand up to Raphael yourself.”

“That sucks,” Chuck pouts.

“Also, you will have to talk to the other angels eventually, or else they’ll never leave you - or me - alone.”

“Maybe we can set up appointments, so I can work speaking with them around writing my next installment of books,” Chuck says thoughtfully.

“Next what?” Sam chokes.

“Yeah, I’m going keep writing about you Winchester brothers hunting together again, with the addition of Adam of course.”

“Um, I was actually planning on going back to school,” Adam says. He looks nervous, as if going against God’s word when he’s sitting right there is maybe a bad idea. “I haven’t actually been dead very long, I figured it’d be the best option.”

“No,” Chuck says. “I’ve already redone my storyline once for you, you’re going to have to do what I say this time.”

“I’ve never been hunting before,” Adam tries to argue.

Chuck has an annoyed look on his face.

“You’ll just have to try it,” Sam appeases. He figures they do own the guy for rescuing them from Hell, after all.

“I guess so,” Adam agrees, resigned.

Chuck looks pleased and says, “Okay, Cas, I agree to your terms.”

*

“So, you and Cas,” Sam says in the car after they leave McDonald’s. Cas got dragged back to Heaven by Chuck with a promise to return later than night. Adam is sitting in the backseat, doing a crossword. “What happened to you going to Lisa’s?”

“I did. Just didn’t stay long,” Dean answers.

“What went wrong?”

“Many things.” Dean shrugs. “Lisa kept making me talk about things I didn’t want to talk about and Ben never warmed up to me.”

“Sorry about that,” Sam says. “I knew you had a soft spot for him.”

“It’s fine. It’s kind of naïve to think that a twelve-year-old kid is just a blank slate sitting around waiting for you to come into his life. And, besides my job really, really sucked. I wasn’t sorry to leave it.”

“What was so bad about your job?”

Dean mumbles something in response

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I was a used car salesman, okay.”

A wide grin spreads across Sam’s face. “Oh Dean,” he says, “that is just too perfect.”

“It was horrible. I sold someone a freaking Pinto.”

Sam is too busy laughing to respond.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean says, piqued, and punches Sam lightly in the arm.

“Jerk,” Sam manages to choke out between laughs.

In the backseat, Adam rolls his eyes at them.

*

Adam goes on one hunt before he decides he’d be better off defying God and going back to med school. While they’re exploring an old abandoned house, looking for a poltergeist that’s terrorizing the neighborhood, Adam trips and almost shoots Dean in the head. Dean spends twenty minutes lecturing him about gun safety before Sam finds the bones. Needless to say, that’s when the poltergeist pops up. Sam and Dean take out the spirit. Adam mostly just gets in the way.

“I’m just not cut out to be a hunter,” Adam says afterwards, covered in ectoplasm.

“I think you might be right,” Sam agrees.

“Did you almost shoot my boyfriend in the head?” Cas asks, appearing behind them and looming menacingly over Adam. Adam looks worried.

“Did you tattle on him?” Sam demands of Dean, getting between Cas and Adam. Cas backs off a bit and goes to stand by Dean with his arms crossed.

“No,” Dean grins proudly, reaching out to place a hand on the small of Cas’ back. “He just knows these things.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “I think you’re lying. It’s not 5 o’clock yet, and you were never in any immediate danger.”

“That’s true,” Cas says. “I would have been here much sooner if that was the case.”

“You’re not helping,” Dean says, wearing a look that says he seriously doubts Cas will be getting any tonight if he doesn’t shut his mouth. Cas glares back just as fiercely, an disgruntled look on his own face. Dean backs down. “How was work, babe?” he asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

“It sucked,” Cas answers. “Despite his promises, God keeps refusing to speak with Raphael. Now Raphael’s threatening to destroy the Earth if God continues to ignore him. God does not seem to care that this might lead to a civil war in Heaven since I would be forced to stop him.”

Dean rubs small comforting circles where his hand is still resting against Cas’ back.

“Today, he threatened you and your brothers grievous bodily harm if I allowed God to ignore him one more time after the centuries he’s spend fetching God booze and Irish coffee and dealing with the humans in his stead.”

“Dude,” Dean says, tugging on the cuff of Cas’ trench coat sleeve to get his attention. “Let’s try and make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“What does Raphael actually want anyway?” Sam asks.

Cas opens his mouth to answer, then pauses, pursing his lips and tilting his head while he thinks. “I’m…. not actually sure,” he finally answers.

“He’s been harassing you for months and you never thought to ask?” Dean asks, rolling his eyes.

“I will have to find out,” Cas admits, embarrassed. “I should really be getting back with God’s Soy Chai Tea Latte anyway.” He presses a quick kiss to Dean’s cheek and vanishes.

*

Cas pops up in the backseat of the Impala as Sam and Dean drive Adam back to Minnesota. Beside him in the backseat, Adam jumps in surprise when he appears. “Don’t do that,” he says, annoyed.

“It seems Raphael wants approval to take a vacation,” Cas says, ignoring Adam.

“A vacation?” Dean repeats, incredulous. “That’s all? Why can’t he just jet off wherever he wants?”

“It seems he wants to go to Saturn to get as far away from humanity as possible as well as see the planetary rings. Interstellar travel is highly regulated.”

“Dude, how is this my life,” Adam demands. “I never wanted to know that God and the Angels were so dysfunctional.”

“Just be glad you get to go back to med school and have a somewhat normal life,” Sam says. “I have to keep traveling with Dean.”

“You could go back to Stanford too if you wanted to,” Dean argues petulantly.

“Oh please,” Sam says. “As if I could get you or freaking God Almighty to let me leave.”

“Hey, do you think God’s going to have a problem with me giving up hunting?” Adam says.

There’s a pause as they consider this.

“I’d better give you my phone number,” Cas says with a worried look. “So you can call me just in case God releases a hoard of locusts in your bed or a plague of frogs in your shower.”

“My life is so fucked up,” Adam says, handing over his phone.

“Look on the bright side,” Dean says optimistically. “You’ve always got us to come fix it if Chuck does do something like that. I am sleeping with his secretary after all.”

In the rear view mirror, Dean can see Cas glaring at him as if he would like to smite him. Dean grins back at him and keeps driving.


End file.
